Writing Creatively With Spirit

A journey of psychic discovery

Session 1 – Working with the crystal ball

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December 17th 2012 (Monday)

It was the last session of the year and like everywhere else people were in the festive spirit (if you’ll excuse the pun). I rang the doorbell clutching my contributions to the festive fare to be consumed after out ‘sitting’.

It was an open circle and there were six other people besides me and the facilitator. An open circle means that people can come and go at will, as opposed to a closed circle where the same members meet every week, and are usually similar in ability. An open circle can very much be a mixed ability affair, as this one was. One participant is professional, and I recognised him as someone I had a reading from at the centre’s open day. He specialises in the Tarot. Three others were very experienced. One of the lesser experienced one had been coming to the circle for about five months and me, who had sat in a circle once.

Everyone was friendly and welcoming. The one man amongst seven women seemed relaxed and at home. In fact he was the professional.

As I tried to find a place to sit it became evident that participants tended to sit in the same place. New comers could sit in vacant places. I wondered if I would be moved around next time if someone else that is used to sitting in my place showed up. But I didn’t have time to worry about that. The facilitator, Mary, called us to order, a slim chatty woman of about fifty five who had easy words and easy movement.

She asked me to introduce myself and to tell the group why I’d come. It looked a bit like an AA group and I wanted to say ‘I’m Predencia and I’m a Psychic,’ but I didn’t. Instead I told them of the messages I’ve had over the years that I can read for others. Whenever I’ve visited a Mind Body Spirit fair or festival, readers have told me I should have a stall or table there. ‘You know you could be doing this,’ is a constant refrain.

That, coupled with seeing a shadow in my room when staying in bed and breakfast in Wales at the end of the summer, and later finding out that the shape and size perfectly fitted the landlady’s dead father was the final contributory factore. I’d heard myself telling her (words coming out before brain thought them) that he wanted her to know he was fine, and would always be looking out for her.

They laughed knowingly when I told them I thought I’d imagined the whole shadow thing, as if to say, ‘yes, we’ve all been there.’

I noted, only later, that no one else introduced themselves. Instead Mary asked one of the participants to say an opening prayer. She willingly asked for divine guidance for the session and that whatever we did would help to bring peace and healing to the world. I relaxed a little, only then realising how tense I’d become. I let go of a bit more fear.

This was followed by a meditation. Mary announced that we were going to be trying out a new piece of music and everyone agreed it sounded very much like Native American music, though we later found out it was Tibetan. Anyway, as I closed my eyes I immediately say a buffalo in front of them, it was so large that I blinked. He faded to make way for a host of other coming across a plain to form a semi-circle in front of me. Puzzled I asked (in my head) if they wanted me to talk to them. ‘No we want you to listen,’ one of them, I don’t know which, said.

‘OK I’m listening.’

‘We need you to write about us.’

‘Write about you? Why?’

‘We want you to write about us for children.’

‘Children!’ I almost laughed out loud. ‘I don’t write for children.’ I tried to put him straight. (I say him… but it was just a voice from somewhere).

‘We want you to use us to show spiritual principles,’ it carried on as though I hadn’t spoken.

That’s when I remembered that I was supposed to be open, not shutting anything out. It’s why I’d come to the circle and already I was saying NO.

‘OK.’ I said, and it was enough to appease them because they faded and I was left to think, ‘I have too many other books to get out of my head before I consider writing books for children.’

At the end of the meditation I shared this with Sam while Mary told us we would be working with crystal balls today. There was little preamble. As participants had forgotten to bring their own balls she said we’d have to use the three she had. One huge clear glass ball, a smaller glass one and an even smaller quartz crystal one.

The exercise was to work in pairs, one being reader and one sitter and then swap. The only instruction on how to use the balls was that we could either hold the smaller balls to see what we got kinaesthetically, or in our minds eye, or we could look directly into them to see what there was visually.

As there were insufficient balls for each pair it was decided that each pair would sit at the table and everyone would watch. I felt panic grip me but quickly worked out that there were seven of us, I wouldn’t have a partner, and I figured she wouldn’t ask me to do something so public on my first meeting. I relaxed and marvelled at what the others were able to sense from and see in the balls.

‘Are you going to have a go then,’ Mary said briskly to me when the last couple had finished.

‘I don’t have anyone to work with,’ was my fist wall of defence, which she quickly brushed aside with, ‘you can work with me.’

‘But I’ve never done this before.’ It sounded like a feeble wail.

‘Never mind, how about I do one for you, then you can see how you feel at the end of it?’ she said moving to sit at the table.

I got up and followed meekly. I was so nervous I couldn’t take in all she was saying to me. Something about one of my sons having some tears this year, and that 2013 would be a good year for me. There was much else, but none of it sunk in.

‘OK lets swap and you can do me,’ and that’s when she must have seen the rabbit in headlights look on my face.

‘What’s the worse that can happen?’ she asked sensing my reluctance.

‘I might not see anything.’ I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

‘Well if that’s the worse at least you will have given it a go, the best is that you could see something, you might get a message for me,’ she was very reassuring and I remembered that this was a time for facing my fears.

‘OK,’ I resigned, ‘ I’ll give it a go.’

‘Good girl,’ she said moving from reader to sitter.

I began by holding the small quartz ball as I’m quite kinaesthetic. I got the thought that I should tell her that Christmas was going to be fine this year, was going to be fun. It seemed like I was just making it up in my head and I was hesitant. The others were very encouraging and said to just say what came into my head, or just say what I saw; even if it didn’t make any sense to me it might to the sitter.

‘Don’t you usually enjoy Christmas?’ I asked her. ‘Because I’ve got the thought to tell you that Christmas is going to be good this year, that you’re going to enjoy it. Does that make any sense?’

‘It’s going to be different,’ she chuckled, ‘I’m going to spend it with my friend in Ireland. I’ve never been away for Christmas before.’

I was so shocked I couldn’t pick anything else up from the quartz ball.

‘Try looking into the clear ball,’ Mary said, and as I followed her suggestion I saw a torch, as clear as day I saw the shape of a torch in the ball. I said this and it made no sense to her, but the others in the group said it probably meant that she needed to shine her light more to get out there more and use her skills more widely.

Then I saw a pair of what looked like Wellington boots. That made sense. Her friend had suggested she brings a pair of boots with her and she was debating whether to bother. She would definitely be taking a pair now. Then I saw what I thought were three dots of light in the ball, but every time I spoke about them I heard myself saying it was a spinning circle of light. It didn’t make sense to anyone, and I couldn’t see anything else. I got a little applause and felt ten feet tall, more for the fact that I took the risk and actually saw something that made sense than for achieving anything profound.

As we walked away from the table one of the others, Petra, asked if I knew someone called Ivy. ‘

I’ve been meaning to call my Aunt Ivy whom I’ve not spoken to in many years.’ I told her, ‘it on my list of thing to do before the end of the year.’

‘Call her today,’ she said.

Mary called us to a close circle for the final meditation in which we had to hold hands, connect with divine healing light, bring it down through our bodies and send it round the circle. As we began doing this I understood the significance of the spinning circle of light in the crystal ball, and almost freaked out as I realised I’d seen something that had not yet happened. The others all agreed and said they hoped I’d keep coming. I was still a little dazed as I munched into mince pies and found out that another member of the group, Beth, also writes erotic novels.

Author: predencia

Author of novels Dare to Love and Betrayed www.pennydixon.com poetry anthology Raw www.cymbalspublishing.co.uk and blogger www.writingcreativelywithspirit.com

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